


Infiltraitor

by khorybannefin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Blind Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing, Deaf Character, F/M, Flirting, Minor Violence, Mutation, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: Summary: Recruitment for special agents for S.H.I.E.L.D. has gotten very secretive. Problem is, of course, that you can’t be sure who works for whom and where their loyalties lie. That is, until the Reader makes the scene
Relationships: Clint Barton & Reader, Clint Barton/Reader
Kudos: 20





	Infiltraitor

Infiltraitor

Cast: Reader, Hawkeye, Captain America

Author: khorybannefin

Summary: Recruitment for special agents for S.H.I.E.L.D. has gotten very secretive. Problem is, of course, that you can’t be sure who works for whom and where their loyalties lie. That is, until the Reader makes the scene.

You loved formal occasions. Giant groups of very flashy people. You could listen, move through a room, “see” and “listen” to all kinds of things. So many people discounted you. Clearly blind, and known to be deaf as well. You could speak, but rarely had reason to in this environment. Besides, the people who knew the truth of you were few and far between. It’s what made you such a great asset.

You were born blind and deaf. You struggled with it growing up. You learned sign language and braille, like any good little defective, but it was hard to navigate the world. As far as most people were concerned you didn’t really exist. At thirteen, when your abilities manifested, it drove you literally insane. How do you teach a blind girl to process suddenly blinding levels of sight? How do you teach a deaf girl to shut out sound that’s only in her head? You screamed until your voice broke and you ended up catatonic.

You knew you spent a year like that, locked up and drooling. The first time one of the orderlies came in with “intentions” it got bad. You “heard” him. You saw what was in his head, what he intended with you. You screamed. You screamed inside. The doctors said they didn’t know what happened. On the video feed he came in with your food. You shrieked at him from the corner and he collapsed, a massive spontaneous brain hemorrhage. He died. You began to understand. You started to listen, to focus.

In another year you’d been released. Your family was terrified of you, didn’t want you. You set off on your own. It wasn’t hard to become an autonomous adult, even at fifteen. You were blind, but you could see auras around everything. You could identify people, navigate a room, almost as well as a regularly sighted person. You were also a very short range telepath. It let you “hear”, and manipulate. Sadly, you were still young and people tried to take advantage. Living alone at fifteen made you a target. Bodies dropped in your wake. You moved a lot.

Natasha found you. Knocked you out before you could lance her. No one had snuck up on you since you’d figured out your abilities. But you didn’t see or hear her coming until a second before she clocked you. You woke up in another cell. You lost it, just lost it. Screaming and lashing out. There was something being broadcast. It was some sort of mental white noise. It made you powerless again! When you flailed against the walls like a blind moth they knocked you out. When you woke again there was a note under your hands in braille, explaining where you were and how you could get free, if you wished.

You read it. Read it again. The name sank in. S.H.I.E.L.D. Government agency that rose with the Avengers and fell again to Hydra. They’d had worse luck than you had. They knew who you were, what you could do. They wanted to talk to you. Thought you might have a place with them where you wouldn’t be a freak, where you wouldn’t have to worry about your safety. They could train you, and you’d be able to do good in the world.

How were you supposed to say no to that?

Another year and you could fight, you had near perfect control of your abilities, and you were a complete unknown. They sent you into places to gather intel and to run interference on delicate missions. You were saving the world, and working with some seriously amazing people.

People like Steve and Clint, who were the other parts of your team this go around. You navigated the party on the arm of a very pretty man. He was an agent, but he was just there for show. Low level as far as anyone was concerned. You were just arm candy for him, though really it was the other way around. You kept trying not to laugh as people complimented him for being so sweet to take the handicapped girl to the ball. You could have blissfully broken the jaws of everyone who said it. Yes, it was part of your cover, but you still didn’t like it.

“Calm down, Y/N.” Steve’s voice came to you. You could hear him smiling. “Violence doesn’t solve anything.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” Clint chimed in. “If you want to drop the room we can do that. Just sing out, Calliope.” It was his name for you. You weren’t sure why. You grinned at the floor, stepping around another tipsy Hydra agent.

“It’s ok, guys,” you sighed. “Just never liked the handicapped thing, even when it was strictly true.” Your escort was “helping you” up the stairs. You got up to the landing and stood by the railing, taking in as much of the party as you could.

“Both Primary targets are in the room. Most of the party actually seems to be our side. Clint, these are the turncoats.” You blew him a mental kiss that contained the images of every Hydra agent in the room besides the two Primaries.

“Gotcha,” Clint said, smug. “Boy I’m glad a brought spares. Might take me a whole minute.”

“Don’t get cocky, Hawk,” Steve was always so proper. “I’m in on the third floor. Secondary agenda in sight.” He was moving down a hall, silently dispatching guards as he went. You could feel their thoughts blink out like candles above you.

“Right, time for the big finale.” You sighed, subtlely loosening up. Even trained a fall like this hurt.

You squeezed the arm of your date to let him know it was time. He turned and started drunkenly cursing at you. You were flapping your hands because he was slapping at you and making mewling, helpless noises. He smacked you, hard, and took off down the stairs. You started to cry and tried to follow, using the railing. It didn’t help. Several men at the bottom of the stairs stopped him, angry at the way he’d treated you. You were definitely the center of attention when you tripped over the stairs and went down screaming. You hit the bottom of the stairs in a heap and the power went out in the same moment.

All part of the plan.

Unlike a normal party full of rich assholes nobody started screaming when the power went out. But there was a lot of shouting of orders and movement in the darkness. Your escort and you split up as alarms sounded. You could see as well in the dark as in the light. You fed your “sight” to your partner and both of you grabbed your assigned primary. You lanced them both, knocking them completely compliant. You made your way out the back with them. Screaming started as targets, Hydra agents all, began dropping at the exits, arrows planted precisely. Steve landed beside you as you made it to the exfil point.

“Smooth as usual, Y/N.” The Captain gave a pleased smile as he took custody of their new acquisitions. “Good work.”

“You too, Cap.” You were pulling the pins out of your hair when you felt him swing into the cargo hold just as you were taking off. You grinned and ignored him, still letting your hair down. He leaned against the wall, watching your fingers find every torturous little bit of metal, finally shaking your hair out into a mass, sighing at the relief. You glanced over your shoulder at him, smirking.

“Something I can help you with, bird man?” He grinned crookedly and shrugged, knowing you could still see it.

“Just wish I’d gotten a dance, is all. Waste of a good dress.”

“Oh really?” You laughed. He started walking towards you and you spun into his arms. “You want a dance do you? We can dance. Just try to keep up.” You threw a mental request upstairs and smiled as Mei piped a waltz through the com in the hold.

Clint stripped out of his harness, took your hand and swung you out into the middle of the floor. Your hand slid up onto his shoulder, appreciating the muscle under your fingers. Your hand in his was cool, but he didn’t put the other on your hip. A spot of warmth on your lower back, just above the fabric line. Yes, it was cut that low in the back. You were supposed to be a spectacle! He was a good dancer too, much lighter on his feet than you’d have given him credit for. But then, he’d been partnered with Nat on more than one occassion. Looks like he could blend in when he needed to. Still….

The music switched, and you spun out to full arms length, eyes hot. Mei had switched it to a tango, and you were determined to make it count. You couldn’t see Clint, but he was laughing and his aura took on that tone it got when he was focusing.

“Come on, baby. You up for a challenge?”

“Try me,” his voice was low, but he still had that laughter in it.

The music was dark, passionate. You moved and spun together, bodies close then whirling apart. It was a dance, but it was a seduction too. Bless whoever had created this music. It was like dominant sex in dance form. You were both so intent on each other that you hadn’t even noticed you’d gathered an audience until the song ended. You were wrapped around Clint, both of you breathing hard, when applause broke out. You cursed.

“Now that I recognize!” Steve was laughing and clapping. “Can I have the next one?” You sighed, looking up at Hawk.

“I think I’m tapped out. Rain check, Steve.” You unwound your limbs, blushing, and straightened your dress. You kicked out of the shoes as the audience broke up. You bent to pick them up, and a warm, familiar hand, curved over your ass. You stood up and Barton whispered in your ear.

“Tapped out, are you?” He smiled. “Shame.” You turned on your heel and grabbed him by the front of his uniform, pulling him close to your lips.

“Best two out of three?” You whispered against him, a breath away from a kiss.

“Sounds like a bet.”


End file.
